


cruel tender touches

by VerdantMoth



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: College Student Peter Parker, Dubious Morality, Enemies to Lovers, Fighting As Foreplay, Fighting Kink, Kinda?, M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:33:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27111997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdantMoth/pseuds/VerdantMoth
Summary: They started this thing by accident.Or, after an accident.Whatever the case, anytime Cap’s team fights with the Iron fam, Peter finds himself in Bucky’s rooms or vice versa.Fuckingwasn’t exactly the goal.It was more… the end result.
Relationships: Implied background Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Peter Parker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 136





	cruel tender touches

_ Rat-tatatatata-rat-tatatatata _

Bucky spits blood into the toilet, grins feral at his own reflection. He hears the window rattle open, and he flushes. Bucky wipes his hand across his busted lips and shucks off his dusty jacket. 

He  _ likes _ the silent pitter of feet across his floors. Loves hearing the growl of pain, the shift of bone. 

“Asshole,” a wispy voice snarls through his apartment. 

“Oops,” Bucky calls back. “Guess Lucille slipped out.”

The bathroom door groans open, overhead light flickering on, joining the little nightlight Bucky’d been using. 

“Right. The knife just pranced right out of your thigh holster and landed point up where I enter,” Peter says. 

“How’s the ankle?” Bucky grins. 

Peter kicks him in the knee hard enough to make Bucky crack his hip against the sink counter. “See the lip is still bleeding,” Peter snarls right back.

“Yeah, that was a new move,” Bucky hisses.

Peter leans forward and licks at the slowly rusting wound, licks hard and sharp, and Bucky grabs his hips.

This time, when he slams Spiderman into the wall, he cradles his head and tips his chin up. 

Peter hooks his legs around Bucky’s waist, and for a moment, Bucky almost expects the horrible vertigo of being knocked down, but Peter just tightens his knees and digs his nails into Bucky’s shoulders. 

Fighting is good and fun. The whole  _ Winter Assassin _ gig really ain’t bad. Petty criminals deserve a good fright or two, even if New York’s vigilanties disagree with his methods. 

But fucking? Fucking after fighting?

God, there’s nothing like digging his fingers into the firm, silky thighs of the kid he’d just fought with.

“You know Tony and Steve’d murder us both,” Peter pants against his mouth. 

“Don’t talk about them when I’ve got a hand on your cock,” Bucky grumbles.

Peter grinds against his hand wicked and demanding, and they don’t talk much more.

-

_ Crkkkk _

“Jesus!” Bucky hisses. “Jesus FUCK!”

He kicks low and fast, and the steel of his boot catches Spiderman’s thigh. The gruesome creak is pleasant, and he knows he’s gonna regret it later. He  _ knows _ it, but watching the boy fall, biting pain beneath his mask?

“You’re gonna pay,” Peter snarls at him. 

“No can do, Spiderling,” Bucky grins.

Peter lashes out, kicks his legs and Bucky isn’t prepared. A fractured (at minimum) thigh should  _ prevent _ this kind of turn about. 

Bucky gasps out, partially from his back meeting asphalt, but also? “Really,” he grunts as Peter straddles his hips. “RIght here, out in front of God and everybody?”

Peter grinds down, and Bucky swears that beneath the spandex mask? The boy has GOT to be smirking down at him. 

Peter leans down, makes sure no one else can hear him, not on either set of coms. “Hush up, or Stevie might catch on.”

Peter grips Bucky’s wrist, pins them tight, and  _ grinds _ again. 

Jesus, but they’re in the middle of an alien battle turned territory dispute and Peter is gonna make him come in his pants like a schoolboy.

“Bucky! Lose the spiderling and let’s  _ go _ !” Steve screams over the comms. “We’re outta here!”

Bucky grins up at Peter, thrust his hips up fast and hard, startling the Spider. 

He pinches Peter on the ass as he leaves, tosses, “Leave your window unlocked,” over his shoulder, and marches after his captain.

-

Bucky is good on his word, and he pries Peter’s dorm window open just a few hours later. The kid’s on his bed, ice on a nasty looking bruise on his thigh, headphones in.

Bucky bounces onto the  _ horrible  _ mattress, grinning when it makes Peter grunt. 

“Your old man can’t spare a few pennies for a better mattress?” Bucky says. 

“Well, we could’ve used _ your _ musty heap of trash if you hadn’t  _ broken my thigh _ ,” Peter hisses. 

“Oh,” Bucky laughs, “Someone’s still pissy.”

Peter slaps at Bucky’s hand as it tries to find a path up his shorts. “Do you even know how many steps this campus has?”

Bucky swats back, and watches Peter’s neck flush as his cold metal fingers trace the curls at the top of his thighs. “Looks bruised, not broken. In fact,” Bucky bites at the greening bruise. “Looks like it is getting better already.” 

Peter tugs at Bucky’s hair, yanks until Bucky is flush against him and he can get his own hands under Bucky’s shirt. “It still fucking hurts,” he grumbles. 

“Mm,” Bucky mumbles into Peter’s neck. He bites down, gentle, just enough pressure to make Peter jerk. “Can distract you from that if ya want.” 

Peter digs sharp nails into Bucky’s shoulders, fingers ghosting over the scars on the left, scraping down his spine. “Didn’t leave the window open ‘cause the weather is nice.” 

Bucky snorts, but he works quickly to rip his shirt off, push his pants down. Peter watches him, brown eyes dusky and hungry, and he waits until Bucky is in just his boxers to slowly strip his own shirt off. 

“You’re gonna have to help,” Peter grunts, and  _ god _ , the frustration on his boy is worth it, for the red spilling across his chest, the bridge of his nose. 

Bucky leers at him and bites at the waist band of Peter’s silky shorts, nipping the milky flesh just because he can. 

“Tease,” Peter gasps. 

Bucky works his way down, and then bites his way back up Peter’s thighs. “Blow?” He asks, 

‘Cause he’s a goddamn gentleman raised by his mama.

“All we really can do,” Peter pouts. 

Bucky eyes him for a moment, then, “I didn’t realize it was that bad?”

Peter shrugs, and then he yanks at Bucky. “Yeah, well, that’s the risks we take.” 

Bucky apologizes with his mouth, cheeks hollow and tongue curling around Peter. He debates working quick, humming and sucking the way he knows gets Peter off embarrassingly fast.

But he’s really feeling remorseful, so he digs his elbows in and hums gently. Peter bucks against his lips, and he twists his fingers into Bucky’s hair. 

Through his lashes, Bucky watches as Peter’s eyes drift shut and his mouth forms a little halo. 

His neck begins to cramp from the angle, but watching Peter’s facial expressions, every micro twitch of his muscles? Hearing the short, breathy pants?

Bucky might break his own neck enjoying it. 

Still, he moves a hand up to Peter’s balls, tugging and rolling them in warm flesh. 

Peter comes with a cry, twists in Bucky’s grip, and Bucky’s  _ almost _ worried he cracked his thigh again.

Mostly though, he focuses on swallowing, licking his lips clean and watching Peter’s chest rise and fall. 

“Gross,” Peter snorts down at him. 

Bucky nuzzles into his hip, planting lazy kisses. “You’re gross.”

Peter snorts again, but he pets Bucky’s hair and doesn’t kick him out immediately. 

-

They started this thing by accident. 

Or, after an accident. 

Whatever the case, anytime Cap’s team fights with the Iron fam, Peter finds himself in Bucky’s rooms or vice versa. 

_ Fucking _ wasn’t exactly the goal. 

It was more… 

“Look, Stark’s vendetta against Cap is more,” Peter chews his words. 

“Their foreplay is not ours?” Bucky fills in. 

“Ew,” Peter grimaces. “Don’t talk about dad that way.” He side eyes a wall for no reason, “But yeah. Something like that. Anyway, I didn't mean to crack the arm there. Thought the least I could do was fix it.”

Bucky’d let him fix the arm. And then he’d shown him just how useful the arm could be for things  _ other _ than beating each other up.

Still, Cap and Stark seem to be working through their issues on their own time these days. So coming up with excuses to swing into the Spider’s dorm has been a little harder. Not that they really need the excuses. 

But the pretense is nice.

Still, they haven’t fought in a few days so he’s genuinely surprised when Peter crashes,  _ literally crashes _ , through his window. 

“Fuck, kid! Now I gotta replace that!” Bucky snarls. 

“Needed to anyway,” Peter snorts. 

Bucky curls the blanket tighter around him. “The fuck are you doing here anyway?”

“Fucking, I hope.”

Bucky can hear the grin in the joke. “Pass,” he says anyway. 

“S’cuze me?” Peter demands. 

Bucky shrugs and he’s about to roll over in his bed when Peter’s hand yanks at the ratty blue cloth. 

“Jesus fuck,” Peter hisses. 

“Not my type,” Bucky snarks back. He can’t stop Peter’s hands though, from twisting his face, poking at the fractured eye socket, scraping at old blood and new, still leaking from his nose. 

“Who the  _ fuck _ did this to you?” Peter begs, low and slow. 

Bucky’s heard a lot of death threats in his life, but he’s never heard murder from such a calm, angelic voice before. “It’s nothing,” he says. 

Peter’s fingers tighten on his chin, then soften, then spasm against his scruff like Peter isn’t sure if it’s safe to touch. “Just another baddy with a silly vendetta.” 

Peter shakes his head. “No,” he trails gentle, calloused fingers across Bucky’s swollen lips. “No, these are personal wounds.” 

Peter shifts, his knee catches Bucky’s hip by accident. Bucky tries, but he can’t stop the gasping groan that eeks out. 

Peter pushes at him then, yanks at the shirt until he’s got it rucked up under Bucky’s armpits. “Bucky,” the boy gasps out. “Those are  _ repulser _ burns.” 

The horror in Peter’s brown eyes hurts more than Bucky’s slowly healing body. “Wha- I mean it’s not like they didn’t  _ know _ ,” Peter hisses. He’s shaking now, frantic and his hands,  _ calloused and soft and _

His hands hover uselessly above Bucky like he can somehow make the serum work  _ faster _ .

“Everything ain't about us, or you,” Bucky sneers. “Get the fuck outta here now, let me rest.”

Peter frowns down at him, hurt rosing up his cheeks, but he gentle lowers Bucky’s shirt and pushes in against him, curling around him.

This? Cuddling? “This ain’t a thing we do,” Bucky reminds him gently. 

“Fuck you,” Peter sighs against his chest.

Bucky kinda wants to say,  _ wish you would _ , but he kinda likes Peter’s breath warm against his shirt. 

“Wasn’t about us,” Bucky whispers into his curls. 

“I fucking know,” Peter sasses back. Damn spider hearing.

-

“So you’re saying,” Peter says, noodles falling out of his mouth. “You let my dad beat the  _ shit _ out of you.” 

He’s grinning, and it’s disgusting, mushroom sauce dripping down his chin. “You let him fuck you over, so Steve would fuck him?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Bucky gags. “Besides, I told you, there’s a whole dead parents situation to deal with also.”

Peter shakes his head and steals a breadstick he  _ specifically declined _ from Bucky. “You let my dad drag that pretty face against the concrete, so your best friend might feel super bad, and bring him wine and cheesecake. You’re helping my dad get laid by your best friend.” Peter crows it out, gleefully, and then realizes what he said. He pales, chokes on his bread, and cries, “I hate you so so much. The NOISES,” and damn, if horrorstruck isn’t as hot as glee.

“Shut up,” Bucky sighs because he’s really over this conversation. 

“Make me,” Peter huffs into his noodles, mind still mulling over the complicated relationships going on between the two teams. 

Bucky takes the invitation for what it is and moves bowls of noodles and salad and bread out of the way.

He pushes Peter against the carpet and licks the taste of butter and garlic and mushroom from his mouth, hand rucking up the boy’s shirt and tweaking his nipple. 

It’s the first time neither of them have had any sort of wound, whatsoever. 

Bucky bites his earlobe, bites down his neck, pinches and sucks until he’s fixed that. “Hey, guess what,” he whispers against Peter’s collarbone. “Pretty sure Steve’s spending the night at your dad’s place.”

“Gross,” Peter blurts out. And then he catches on. “Why the fuck are we on the floor then? Take me to bed!” He demands, hooking his ankles around Bucky’s waist and tugging at his shoulders. “Steve’s though. Dad bought him a fancy mattress.”

Bucky laughs. One day they’ll fuck without mentioning their other halves. 

He stops laughing when Peter rolls his hips against Bucky’s, hard cock teasing hard cock. 


End file.
